We Never Go Out of Style
by WongDude
Summary: Jeff and Annie set to Taylor Swift's Style (One-Shot)


Its 11:58 PM when Jeff Winger pulls up to 3624 Dresser Ave. and it's dead as can be in the little city of Greendale, Colorado. He only looks up when the door opens, and she smiles at him and buckles the seat belt.

* * *

"Long time, no see," he says smiling back, "The DPD better be treating you well."

"Yeah, they are. It's just been weird not really having contact with you guys, especially after Abed moved in with Troy at Pierce's mansion," Annie trails off _I should just go back upstairs_ she thinks, _I should tell him to leave_ "It's just been a hectic couple of months...especially with the whole Rich case. I still can't believe he killed Slater. I had no idea he was THAT insane."

"Oh," Jeff frowns looking forward, "Yeah, I could've told you that. Either way, I'm glad Mark won that case."

"What," Annie questions, looking at him, "Why?"

"His firm was gonna go under," Jeff shrugs looking at her, "He needed a W."

"Oh," Annie replies meekly, "I didn't know." It's then that Annie notices the same look in his eyes. The same look that made her fall in love with him all those years ago, and she can't help but return his gaze and blush a little bit. She does the only thing she can do to distract herself from his blue eyes, she reaches into her purse and pulls out the only lipstick she has. It doesn't make any sense to her in the moment, because she isn't as dressed up as she should be for this red, but she rolls with it.

"Anywhere you wanna go," Jeff asks at the red light, "I don't really have a plan...I just thought we should catch up...since it's-"

"Been a while?" she finishes, "I know...how about we just go hang out like we used to?" she looks at him, hoping it didn't sound too suggestive.

"What," he softly replies, "I mean yeah...that sounds good." _Damn it, Winger! Just tell her already!_

"Good," she smiles and sees his t-shirt underneath his leather jacket, "Since when do you wear t-shirts? The Jeff Winger I know would never wear these!"

"For your information milady," he shoots back and catches the smile that erupts on her face, "I'm trying this thing where I dress casually sometimes."

She tries to make the smile go away, but she laughs and it only makes it worse, "So how much did this so-called casual shirt cost?" She can't help but roll her eyes and she slips back into the comfortableness that she had long forgot.

"Uh," he swallows, "Ninety bucks" He parks in his assigned spot at his apartment complex off of Thalberg Drive, turns off the car and looks at her, "Just kidding! It was only twenty-nine."

"Jeff!" she smacks his arm, "That's not funny! Who spends ninety dollars on T-shirts?!"

He offers her his arm, "I don't know," he smirks at her, "Mario Lopez probably."

"He's rich, Jeff," she takes his arm and rests her head against his shoulder, "He can make his own clothing line for all I care!"

"Actually," Jeff looks at her, "He does have his own clothing line…"

"Shme shmoes shmave shmis shmown shmothing shmine," she sticks her tongue out and all she can see is Jeff smiling broadly at her, "That was you, you clothing nerd."

They take the elevator up to the second floor, and all Jeff can do is stare at their reflection in the metal. He likes what he sees. He wants it. He wants her. But he doesn't want to risk losing her again. They reach his door, and he opens it up into a dark room that Annie vaguely remembers from their groups Christmas party back in their senior year. She doesn't like the silence; it feels too unlike them, too like strangers. "I heard," she starts anxiously, "That you've been out and about with some girl…" trying not to sound like she's prying, or defeated. She slips off her shoes and hangs her coat up behind the door.

He returns from the kitchen with a bottle of wine, and two glasses. He hands her the remote. "What you've heard is true," he says pulling the cork out of the Cabernet, "But I can't stop thinking about you..." _And I_ he trails off as he pours her a glass, hands it to her, and begins to pour him one.

Annie doesn't respond, she takes a drink of her wine and aimlessly scrolls through the TV Guide. She feels his arm around the top of the couch, and she clicks on the E! Channel, "Oh...The Soup! Joel McHale is so...Ryan Seacrest-y but he's definitely hotter with that beard…"

All Jeff can do is roll his eyes. She catches him and smacks his arm. It's an excuse to move closer to the guy she used to have a crush on. Used to? Who is she kidding! She still likes him, more than she's willing to admit to anyone and he just confirmed that he likes her back, so what does she have to lose? She sets her glass down on the coffee table, curls her skirt underneath her and lays into him, as his arm slowly falls from the top of the couch around her shoulders.

Suddenly, every last memory of their time spent together flashes before her eyes and she revels in his cologne. "Jeff?" she looks up at him with wide eyes.

"Hm?" he breathes, looking down at her.

"I've been there too," she reveals, "A few times."

He smiles, and does what he's wanted to do for so long. He shifts his body so he's facing her and lays his forehead against hers._ It's now or never, Winger. Don't lose her again._ He looks into her blue eyes and leans in.

Annie closes the gap with her lips on his. It's something so familiar, and something so right. His hands cup her face and she wraps her arms around his chest to pull him closer. He pulls away, and she's momentarily confused before he breaks the silence, "Something always brings me back to you."

Annie smiles, recognizing the song, "It never takes too long," she pokes his forehead, "You're a gigantic sap, you know that?"

"It's just my style, baby" Jeff grins, Annie shakes her head and kisses him again.


End file.
